By Jemima Pereira (webmaster@jemimap.cjb.net)
© January 2004
Rating: PG
Season: season 4
Series: Stargate SG-1
Spoilers: Prisoners, Window of Opportunity, 2010

Bitter Jack from "2010," in the second person.

No dough, no foul.

The title is another line from the poem "Thursday" by Edna St. Vincent Millay, in A Few Figs from Thistles, 1922 (http://digital.library.upenn.edu/women/millay/figs/thursday.html).

"Thursday" by Edna St. Vincent Millay (1892 - 1950)

And if I loved you Wednesday,
  Well, what is that to you?
I do not love you Thursday--
  So much is true.

And why you come complaining
  Is more than I can see.
I loved you Wednesday,--yes--but what
  Is that to me?


You're shocked to see her at first. You stare speechless at a face that for years you've seen only in dreams of happier times.

Not happier times, you remind yourself. These are the good days, the days of no fish and no people. No people should have meant no Carter, but something has gone wrong. You have to say it - you told them so.

Sure, Daniel would trust an alien sooner than his own mother, and you wouldn't have been surprised back then to see Teal'c following Linea herself, if she had promised him victory over the Goa'uld. General Hammond had his suspicions, but he also had his famous line: "It's out of my hands, son."

Sam, though, was supposed to be military. She was supposed to back you up. Instead, she was swayed by the technology, and then by the special liaison appointed to deal with the Aschen when it became clear that your own sentiments were less than diplomatic.

Now here she is, complaining that the dream bit her on the ass. Somehow her husband let the Aschen sterilize her, and she has the nerve to tell you it's not what you thought would happen. Details, Carter, details. Not with a bang but with a whimper...

You sit there waiting for an apology that never comes. You'd settle for even the slightest admission of error - not her "We made a big mistake," but an "I made a big mistake." She doesn't seem to feel the need to apologize, since this is a dead-end timeline in her Big Eraser plan.

You kissed her in a dead-end timeline once, but today you'd even settle for an empty promise not to stab you in the back again. But when she asks you to "put that behind us," you blow up. You're not interested in saving the world that tossed you aside. You're not here to buy her soul back from that guy she sold it to. You came out here to fish.


There are no fish. Maybe if you tried the big eraser, there would be fish. That's what you tell yourself, anyway. You're not doing this for her - you're not fool enough to court the knife in your six again. You're doing it for the fish.

It starts out well - just like old times - but you know too well where those old times led. When it all goes to pot, it helps to think of the fishes as you're trading Carter away for a GDO. You can't blame Joe for trying to save his wife, even if it means killing the rest of you. Which is what will happen when you go in there without backup. Everyone on the team has a job, and Carter's was to take out the zappy things.

So you tell her that you won't need backup - oh, no, not where you're going. That's why they call it a dead-end timeline, right? So Teal'c gets zapped dialing out. You swing into the action, getting halfway up to the gate before your neck - or brain - gets zapped and you're completely paralyzed. In your peripheral vision you can see Daniel, dying on the stairs along with you. Carter made a big mistake and you get to pay the price - the story of your life.

The shiny red stairs are getting dimmer, and the sounds of zapping and shouting are growing faint. Funny that the zapping goes on even after your team is down. You don't feel a thing, but you see a hand go by as the note disappears.

There's a whole lot of zapping going on, but you know somehow Carter will pull it off. Why does she always have to wait till the last minute, though? Seriously, ten yea--

[the end]